


The Gauntlet: Ryul's Trial

by theterriblethingabouttulio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theterriblethingabouttulio/pseuds/theterriblethingabouttulio
Summary: Ryul Tabris, Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran find themselves facing shadow version of themselves in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Ryul finds himself facing his best friend and his lover in a battle he's not sure he can fight.





	The Gauntlet: Ryul's Trial

            The Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Gauntlet. Shianni. Delving into the temple of the prophet he did not revere of the god he did not worship, all after slaying the cult he had nothing against, not even on principle. He was driven to slaughter by the expectations of those who followed him. But that was nothing, nothing compared to what Ryul faced now.

            The faces of his friends Alistair and Wynne, the face of his lover, Zevran, and his own, standing in a line mirroring their own, faces twisted in snarls. Stunned, he and his companions couldn’t move, not until the spectre of himself charged forward, Yusaris glinting in the candlelight. On instinct alone, he surged forward, sister blades clashing, and his companions followed him into battle. Spells lit the room like flashes of lightning, steel meeting steel, the cries of battle.

            Alistair cut in, taking over his fight as Ryul spun to face the attacker behind him, who had just sent a jolt of pain through his back. It wasn’t until after his first strike that he found himself face to face with Wynne. Not the real one, but by the gods she was convincing. His best friend, facing him in battle. And he froze. He couldn’t strike, could do nothing but stagger backward as she sent an arcane bolt into his chest, electric pain coursing through his body.

            “They’re not real!” cried Alistair. Zevran let out a battle cry as he flew at the spectre Alistair somewhere to Ryul’s left.

            _They’re not real_ , Ryul repeated. “You’re not Wynne.” As he raised his blade, the agony of a dagger slipping between his armor caused him to turn. He was met with Zevran, the man he hadn’t realized he was falling in love with until the unmistakable feeling of ultimate betrayal made his breath stop.

            “Zevran,” he whispered. Suddenly, the spectre fell, disintegrating on the floor. Behind him stood the real Zevran, blood dripping down his face from a cut on his cheek.

            “The battle is not yet won, _mi amor_ ,” he said, gazing intently up at Ryul. “I will stand beside you.”

            Zevran twisted quickly around Ryul, striking down the spectre Wynne before she could make another attack. Ryul could only stare at him, trying to pull his attention back to the battle but finding himself unable. Zevran met his stare, but quickly had his attention pulled away.

            “Incoming,” he said, and finally Ryul could look. He found the spectre version of himself, the last one standing, striding purposefully for them in full Juggernaut armor. For the first time, Ryul could appreciate what his enemies saw when he came for them. Beside him, Zevran chuckled. “Two of you, eh? If we laid down arms, this could be a hell of a night, don’t you think?”

            For the first time in a very, very long time, Ryul felt himself grin. He felt Wynne’s healing magic knit his flesh back together and breathe strength back into his limbs as he tightened his grip on Yusaris.

            “I think I prefer to keep you to myself,” replied Ryul, stepping forward and cleaving the spectre in two. As the spectre disappeared, silence enveloped them for a moment as they caught their breath, but shortly after, Zevran’s hand was on Ryul’s breastplate, pulling him down to stare into his eyes.

            “And so you keep me around another day, yes?” he murmured, then pulled him into a deep kiss. “My knight in…” Zevran pulled back and scrutinized Ryul for a moment. “Ugly, but effective, armor.”

            Ryul didn’t answer, just pulled his rogue into another kiss, ignoring Alistair clearing his throat uncomfortably and Wynne’s distracted, “Would you look at this?” He was too busy being grateful that there was only one Zevran Arainai in the world, and that he was his.


End file.
